Flash
By
Snuffles4Eva
A/N: Alas, this is the end of my Flash endeavours. I'll give you a moment to sob.
Finished? Good. That's one thing you and this fanfic have in common. This is the Epilogue. 10's a nice round number to finish on. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading Flash, and I thank the loyal people who stuck with me the whole time… There's a list on chapter… 7, is it? Anyway, thanks to them, and all you who are reading this now. You're all very lovely people. And I'm sure that means a lot from some random fanfic author you've never met. Yeah.
Disclaimer: The last one for Flash! Yay!
Oh, and the fanfic is not mine.
Harry Potter wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Gazing at the room before him, he noted his work.
He had been in Grimmauld Place for a week now, working through the rooms, clearing them of junk. It got his mind off other things. He surveyed the room in front of him, checking that it was all done. Nodding, he closed the door, and approached the next one.
It was Sirius'.
He sucked in his breath. A battle raged inside of him. Should he go in there? Would the memories be too painful? Curiosity decided for him. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle.
The door squeaked open.
Harry stood, and took in his late Godfather's old room.
It was a mess.
He sighed, and got to work. This could take a long time.
Hours later, the room was looking much clearer. Harry was rather pleased with himself, to say the least. He just had the top of the wardrobe to clear now. It looked easier said than done.
Standing on a handy box that he had found, he reached up and felt around for some of the junk Sirius kept above his wardrobe. His wandering hands were not disappointed. His fingers brushed something… Hard? Pulling it down, he realised it was a complete Quidditch set. He dusted it off, and cautiously opened it. Inside lay the 4 balls, gleaming like new. He made a mental note to make sure he took this to the Burrow after the war.
About to close it, a small yellowy-white object caught his eye. It was stashed under the Quaffle, so just the corner was peeping out. Harry lifted the Quaffle and read the piece of paper.
Harry, it read, If you are reading this, then it means that I have met my unfortunate end. Huh. I hope it doesn't hurt. Anyway, may I congratulate you on your keen eye! And also the level to which you have cleaned my room. I probably looks better than it ever did, even without me living with it.
I just wanted to make sure you knew that everything I own – or owned, I s'pose – goes to you. I did leave it in my Will, I just don't trust the Ministry. And there are things that I didn't mention in my Will. I just trust that you will find this letter. Feel free to keep the Quidditch set, though. It was your father's. I recovered it from the house the night they passed away. He had always talked of giving it to you, on your 11th birthday. It was his 11th birthday present. How it is still pristine, I do not know.
I'm sorry, Harry. I know that it is not my fault that Pettigrew betrayed them, yet I still feel an obligation to you, as your Godfather, to keep you safe. And I have failed. How have I failed? By dying. By leaving you to face Voldemort alone. By not doing enough to ensure your parents' safety. I am, truly, a failure.
Don't think bad of me Harry. I know you won't. You're too much like your mother. She was kind to everyone – excepting James and myself, before 6th year.
I'll leave you now, Harry, leave you alone. I feel bad for doing it, as a Godfather, I should always be there for you. I never did luck-out in family matters, as I'm sure you can realise.
Just one more thing from me, before I Rest In Peace: Try the third panel to the right.
All my love,
Your Godfather, Sirius
Harry stood, his vision blurring. A small tear rolled down his cheek, and fell onto the paper. His last remnant of Sirius. He folded it reverently, and put it in the breast pocket he had created in his jacket. Looking down, he analysed the Quidditch set. This was his father's. He would never let it go.
Looking around the room, he drew in a shaky breath, and stood. The panels on the walls gleamed at him. Try the third panel to the right.
Sirius' words echoed in his head. He wanted to get excited over them, but he had suffered so much disappointment that he no longer allowed himself to hope. It only led to sadness.
His body moved of its own accord. He had been denied happiness too much. He needed it now.
Excitedly, he pressed down on the third panel right of the wardrobe. Nothing happened. He tried again. Nada.
Alohamora He whispered, dread – yet not surprise – filling his body. Nothing happened. Alohamora he said again. Again nothing moved.
He kicked the panel. It sounded solid. He sank down, his back to the wall, his eyes welling up again.
It wasn't meant to be like this. Sirius wasn't meant to die, he never died, he never fell through the veil, we apparated out of there, and he would come walking through the door any minute.
Wait, the door.
Realisation cut through his day dreams and all his wishes.
Sirius never meant third panel to the right of the wardrobe. He meant the third panel to the right of the door. Harry leapt up, and over his father's Quidditch set, and pressed on the panel. It opened for him.
The panel fell off in his hands, and he put it down.
He was greeted by a small cardboard box, with another note attached to it.
Harry,
I knew you would do it! Now all you have to do is kill the Dark Lord, and you're set up for life!
Moving on to the box, nobody has yet found it, but you. Want to know why? Well, it's because I used the Muggle way of disguising this panel, no magic involved. The Aurors can trace magic, you know. But since they never bother to check for secret panels Muggle-style, this secret is safe and sound. Brilliant idea of mine, wasn't it?!
Enjoy the box,
Your loving Godfather, Sirius
Harry looked in the box. Inside were 3 mobile phones. One was pink, one was blue, and one was black. He picked them up, and underneath was a red and gold, leather bound book, with the Gryffindor crest and Lion on the front. He opened it.
It was a photo album.
Harry flicked through the pages. The first one was of his mother and father, the same age as he, their faces inches away from each other. Then it was one of his father looking positively furious, chasing a scared looking Sirius, then Sirius and his mother, locked in a hug in the Gryffindor common room. There was Sirius and a girl that he thought looked like Marlene McKinnon, but he wasn't sure, bending over something on a desk that you couldn't make out from the photo. There was one of Pettigrew, with a ball of parchment in his mouth, sleeping on his desk, and then of him standing on a table, saying something to a horrified Slughorn. One of Sirius and Marlene looking thoroughly bored with the blue phone on their desk, one of his mother rushing out of the Great Hall. Another of his mother and father together, looking positively furious, and then one of McGonagall passed out on the floor. But the last photo was his favourite.
They were at graduation. Dressed in their robes, Remus watched with a smirk on his face as James pushed Sirius into the lake, his mother laughing on the side lines.
He closed the book, his fingers lingering on the cover. Downstairs, he heard Ron and Hermione arguing over some little thing. Her thought of Ginny, home at the Burrow. He looked down at the book again.
He was going to defeat Voldemort. He knew it.
A/N: And that truly is the ending to Flash. I hope you liked it, and thought the epilogue was good. Thanks for staying with Flash, all the way through, although I know it's just 10 chapters. Thank you!
Hopefully you realised that the pictures in the album are from each chapter of the story (with two for the last one). I may not have made that clear..
Gratefully yours,
Snuffles4Eva